Dear Friday: I'm kind of in shock that you're already here. This week was a whirlwind of babies, writing, and birthday madness. I'm not complainin' or anything. Lord knows my theme song has always been "Workin' for the weekend"by Loverboy. I may or may not have just YouTubed it to listen/discover who sings it. My 80s knowledge is a little hazy... I only made it for the last year of the decade, after all.
Dear "Drive": Two words. What the heck? Holy guacamole, you were the WORST movie I've ever seen. We grossly overpaid at the RedBox down the street. Grahm and I watched you last night, expecting an entertaining movie with lots of car chases (hence the title). Instead we got no plot and lots of unexpected gore? The only winning thing about this movie was Ryan Gosling's face, and even he couldn't save this troll of a movie.
Dear Cama Gaucho: Brazilian steakhouses are my cellulite's new favorite thing. Really any place with "all you can eat" written in their menu is gonna be in my stomach's top five. We went here for Grahm's birthday. We felt like kings for an entire night. Men kept coming up to us offering us delectable meats on fancy-pants skewers. We would turn up our noses at what we didn't like, and gorge ourselves on what we did. I wish it wasn't so expensive (in the dollah or carb department) or else we would totally be going there ALL the time.
(Sorry that a rat died in my hair. Gross.)
Dear Sister: I miss you mucho grande! You are so sweet to send Grahm a birthday present, and to send ME something too! I love my new shirt. Thanks for sharing the wealth on G's bday.
Dear Grahm: I'm glad you turned 26 this week. Thanks for letting me treat you like a third grader by bring Oreo cake to your work. I know it wasn't your favorite thing, going around from office to office offering your coworkers some sweet goodness... but people needed to know it was your birthday by golly! What are wives for anyway?